Great Expectations
by Quatre-sama
Summary: Kel finds herself in the most unlikely of places - married to Wyldon of Cavall and expecting her first child. written as part of Goldenlake's "Wyldon Winter"


Great Expectations

I.

"Are you sure?" Kel asked, rubbing her temples.

"Let me get this straight," Neal said, sitting next to her, grinning sardonically. "You've had headaches and nausea for the last two weeks, you're tired all the time, your lower back has been aching for the last two days - and your monthlies are over a week late, too boot – but you ask if I'm _sure_ you're pregnant?"

Kel sighed. "It does sound a little ridiculous when you put it that way."

"Do you not want children?" Neal asked, his smile slipping. He didn't know the ins and outs of Kel's marriage – sometimes, he had to admit, it was awkward even to think of her being married to Wyldon of Cavall. But on the other hand, he had seen them growing closer in the years after the untimely death of Lady Vivenne, and saw how well they were suited to each other.

"I wasn't planning for this," she said with a frown. "I have no idea what Wyldon will think."

"You know, there are charms you could have been wearing to prevent this, if you didn't want it."

"And I normally wear one," Kel replied. Though her expression remained as calm as ever, Neal had a feeling she was on the verge of snapping. "I don't know what happened. It must've been when we were in the bath…." She trailed off, staring at the wall.

"There are ways to terminate a pregnancy, Kel," he said softly, one hand on her knee. "Is that something you'd want to consider?" He had to suggest it, though he didn't relish the idea of ending a life – especially a life Kel had helped to create. He suspected she would be a wonderful mother; she was his own daughter's godsmother, as she was for Owen's oldest son, and was a natural when it came to caring for infants. Her common sense and maternal instincts had helped Yuki plenty of times.

"No," she said firmly. "Wyldon would hate me for it."

"That shouldn't be why you don't consider it."

"Neal," she whispered, her eyes soft. "You know I could never do it, either."

"I had to be sure," he replied. He stood and crossed to his desk. "I have some herbs I want you to drink in water or cider each morning. It should reduce the nausea, at least. There isn't a lot we can do for the backaches or headaches – willow bark tea would probably help, but you should drink that in moderation. You're going to notice a lot of changes: mood swings, fatigue, dizziness, altered sexual appetite, weight gain and redistribution—"

"What do you mean by 'redistribution'?" she interrupted to ask.

He felt his cheeks burn. It was like being seventeen again, and unable to hear Owen talk about Kel's growing bosom. "You're bound to gain weight – probably twenty-five pounds or so over the next nine months – but in the beginning you'll notice more that, well, your breasts will change. Grow. And become more tender."

"Oh."

He continued to rifle through his desk for the herbs while she sat on the examination table, lost in thought.

"How long do I have until I have to stop my regular knightly duties?"

"Only you can gauge that, Kel. But you shouldn't do much riding after the first three months. And when you do ride in the first trimester, you can't do any jumping." He handed her several small folded paper packets. "Are you all right?"

She nodded, but her expression remained troubled. "I-I don't even know how to begin to tell Wyldon," she said. "He's done with this part of his life, isn't he? Why would he want another child, when his are already grown?"

"I think you'll be surprised," Neal said. While he wasn't always sure what he thought of their marriage, there was one thing he could rely on – Wyldon of Cavall loved his wife very much. "But really, Kel – in the _bath?_"

II.

Wyldon was in his office when she returned to Cavall two weeks later. He looked up from the reports he was reading, surprise etched on his face. "Back so soon, Keladry?" he asked. He had never taken to her nickname. "I thought you were going to be reviewing squires for the next week or two."

She kissed him lightly and leaned against his desk. "I have news."

He removed his delicate, wire-framed reading glasses; he hated having to wear them, she knew, but she secretly thought they made him look even more handsome. "Is something wrong?"

This is it, she thought, trying to keep her expression neutral. "I—you see, I wasn't feeling well when I was in Corus, so I went to Neal," she began haltingly.

His eyebrows knit together with concern, and she immediately felt terrible. He had lost his first wife to illness, she knew – she should have explained herself differently.

"I'm going to have a baby, Wyldon," she rushed on.

He was silent for a long moment, staring up at her incredulously. She didn't know how to interpret his expression. Was he simply shocked? Excited? Did he think she wasn't serious?

"A baby," he repeated, his eyes searching hers.

She nodded. "I know this probably isn't something you want – you've been through all of it before and likely thought this part of your life was well over with. But it's something _I _want. I couldn't end the pregnancy – I just can't destroy something we created together and—" She could not speak any further because he had stood up and shushed her with a kiss.

"You're wrong," he said, his wide mouth twisting into a smile. "It's certainly not something I had expected or thought to hope for, but I didn't realize until this minute just how much I wanted it."

Her body sagged in relief. "Oh, thank Mithros," she breathed. "I was certain you would be disappointed."

He laughed – a sound she still was not completely accustomed, too, though it did not surprise her as it once had – and wrapped his arms around her. "Keladry, I assure you that I'm thrilled. Have you told anyone else? Your parents?"

"No," she said, resting her head on his shoulder. "Only Neal knows. I had to tell you first."

"How do you feel?" he asked, pulling back and framing her face with his large hands.

"A little nauseated," she admitted. "And dizzy."

"You'll probably feel tired for a while," he said, a reminder that he had been through this four times before. "Your body is going through so much right now, and all your energy is focusing on our little one."

"Neal warned me of some of the changes I should be expecting. He mentioned fatigue."

"Every woman and every pregnancy is different, though," Wyldon told her, massaging her neck with one hand. "I'm sure there will be some things that even Queenscove couldn't prepare you for. We should probably contact your mother – her advice will be as good as any healer's, if not better."

"I'll write to her after I've had a nap," Kel said, yawning suddenly. "And we should decide when we're going to share the news with your daughters."

III.

Wyldon had forgotten so much about pregnant women. It was true, what he had told Keladry – every pregnancy was different. Even the multiple pregnancies of his first wife had been different; Vivenne had experienced morning sickness only with their third daughter. Keladry, it seemed, was suffering quite a bit from it.

Not that she complained. She simply went about her regular routines and paused for sickness. He watched her work through the expected bouts of dizziness or fatigue; occasionally he asked her to stop if she looked worse for the wear. She was not like Vivenne, and he had to remind himself of that. Vivenne had been comparatively frail. While she had not succumbed to morning sickness, she had been bed-ridden for the last two months of each pregnancy, unable to handle any physical activities.

Keladry had never been anything like Vivenne, though. She was such a strong, healthy woman. But even she needed to be reminded that she was with child and couldn't stress the baby too much. She brushed him off for a time, until the morning she found blood in her loincloth and was nearly shaking with fear before she told him what had happened.

"It's perfectly normal," he assured her, though she wouldn't rest at ease until a local healer woman was called to speak with her.

"I should know to listen to you," she said later that evening, as they prepared for bed. "Galina confirmed everything you said."

"Did she answer all your questions?" Wyldon asked, blowing out the candles and lying back against the pillows.

"Yes," she said, finding his lips in the darkness and kissing him hungrily. "She reminded me that it's perfectly safe to love my husband."

"I could have told you that," he murmured against her neck. He had wanted nothing more than to make love to her since she came home with the news, but respected her hesitations. She did not hesitate now, though; they moved against each other slowly and deliberately at first, until mutual and frenzied desires demanded more. Wyldon reveled in the subtle changes of her body, and the way such changes affected Keladry. She clearly had missed their weeks without this sort of intimacy as much as he had.

And when all was said and done, and she lay exhausted against his chest, she laughed. "I was so afraid that would hurt the baby," she confessed. "I feel like a fool – I don't know what I'm doing. I haven't felt this clueless since I was a page." But her laughter very quickly dissolved into quiet tears.

Wyldon was astonished – he had never seen Keladry cry. When wounded, she did not cry; she simply gritted her teeth and bore her pain. When she mourned the loss of her refugees' lives, she did not cry. She saved the energy and used it to rescue the remaining living souls. He had not been with her during that rescue, but he knew her well enough to know that she had not paused to sob during the trip. He had never known her to weep, and these quiet tears alarmed him.

"I'm sorry," she murmured, wiping her eyes with the back of her hands. "I'm feeling so crazy right now – volleying from delirium to despair. I hate dramatics as much as you do, but I feel so out of control."

He wanted to chuckle, but didn't, worried about how she would react. "You're not yourself right now, Keladry," he asserted, kissing the top of her head. "And you won't be until well after this babe is born."

"I have six and a half more months to go," she said, rolling onto her back. "This is awful."

"Some women like being pregnant," Wyldon said, leaning up onto one arm. Vivenne had loved it. His daughters seemed to enjoy pregnancy; they had been glowing with delight each time he had visited them. "Maybe you won't. But I know there's something worthwhile in it for you."

"Having a daughter or son of my own," Keladry whispered, her voice thick with emotion.

He ran his hand down from her collarbone to her abdomen, which was as muscled and taut as ever. But inside was his child – his little boy or girl, like a gift from the Goddess, waiting for the proper time to be born.

IV.

"You're over-working yourself, Kel," Owen chastised gently. She was doing her morning glaive routines, whipping the long pole-arm around her body with precision. Normally it was beautiful to watch, Owen thought, but she was looking a little clumsy. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," she said, stopping to wipe her brow. She breathed heavily. "Just a little dizzy."

"You should sit down."

She surprised him, doing as he suggested. He couldn't really see her belly – she was wearing breeches and a loose cotton shirt. She probably wasn't even showing yet. He wouldn't have even guessed she was pregnant, has he not heard the news from his father-in-law two months prior.

"How does Margarry feel about having a little sister or brother?" Kel asked, her face calm but her voice exposing her concern.

"She's happy for you both," Owen said. "I know you've always been uneasy about how everyone else feels about your marriage, Kel, but we couldn't be happier. You two are alike, and you bring out the best in each other. I think you balance him out quite well."

Kel laughed. "When I first saw him, I thought he had too much stone and needed more water. Any Yamani will tell you that I have too much water. So perhaps I do balance him nicely."

"And any child you have will be amazing," Owen said earnestly. He had more respect for Kel than any other fighter, save Wyldon. "Will you have her train for knighthood?"

"Of course," Kel answered. "If that's what she – or he – wants."

"Are you hoping for a boy or a girl?"

"It seems wrong to hope for one over the other," Kel said. "Did you, when Margarry was expecting?"

Owen shrugged. "I just wanted a healthy baby. Margarry wanted boys – I think it was because she grew up with only girls."

"I know Wyldon would be happy with a daughter," Kel began softly, "but I think he aches for a son. He has not said as much, of course."

"And even if he does feel that way, he'd never say it," Owen agreed. "But you know it's got to be on his mind. This fief goes back to the crown if he doesn't have a legal heir. He's worked hard to make Cavall what it is today – it was in disrepair when he inherited, and he built up the stables and kennels until they were famed throughout Tortall." He sat next to her on the low stone wall that divided the gardens from the rest of the yard. "He said you're having strange cravings."

Kel shook her head with as much of an exasperated expression as he had ever seen. "No one told me that carrying a child meant that people would ask after my every whim and talk about me non-stop."

Owen shrugged. "Just add it to the many burdens the Goddess gives women to carry. Margarry always wanted strawberries when she was pregnant. Of course, most of that was after Midwinter, when there wasn't a strawberry to be found in the Eastern Lands."

"I've been wanting both olives and tsukemono – pickled vegetables as only the Yamani can prepare. There are some Yamani fish recipes I've been wanting, too, but Neal says it's dangerous to eat raw fish in this state."

He couldn't help but make a face at the thought. "Raw fish?"

She nodded. "Wrapped in rice and sea weed. It's delicious."

"I'll take your word," he replied, shuddering. "Lord Wyldon tells me he's being requested at the northern border." Owen didn't like the idea of Kel remaining in Cavall by herself.

"He won't be there long," Kel said. "You and Margarry should stay a while, though. I think Wyldon would feel better having you both here with me – and we like having your boys around."

"I'll stay as long as you'll have me, Kel."

V.

Wyldon was gone for barely more than a month, and Kel was tetchy in his absence. They had spent as much time together as apart since their marriage three years prior, so Kel assumed it was the pregnancy that made her feel so differently this time around.

True to his word, Owen had stayed at Cavall with Margarry and their two small boys. Maks was two years old and Pelin almost a year old, and Kel found that she loved having their company. It had been a shock of sorts to find herself a step-grandmother as soon as she married, but she loved all of the little ones. Having had nieces and nephews for almost as long as she could remember, Kel had always enjoyed being around children. But she also knew that loving a child and caring for her over the course of a weekend was not the same as raising one of her own.

And as she lay awake at night, too aware of the enormity of their bed when Wyldon was not there to share it with her, she worried about everything this child would mean to her life. As a squire, she had often thought of that far-off future when she would marry and have a family. When she was knighted she had so many other things to think about – finding Blayce the Gallan, taking care of her refugees – that romance and everything that could come with it were kept in the back of her mind where they couldn't get in the way. She hadn't given it much thought, even upon her marriage.

Their romance hadn't been the type her sisters swooned over. There was no romantic exchange of a fan, like Yuki and Neal. No years of letter-writing, like Owen and Margarry. Respect had grown into friendship, and somehow, in the time after he was widowed, their friendship had evolved into something sweeter. There was certainly passion – dignity and formality she knew from the training master of her youth was replaced with a caring and humorous man she had first seem glimpses of at Fort Mastiff – and their courtship had been surprisingly brief. Unlike her previous attempts at relationships, there was a comfort level that fell into place with Wyldon, and when he proposed marriage, she had accepted without hesitation.

But this pregnancy – it was something she worried about. Each night she curled up in the bed, inviting Jump to join her, and waited. She waited for him to return. She waited for her mother to come to Cavall, as she had promised she would. And she waited to feel like she was the mother of this tiny creature growing inside of her.

For although Kel was the Protector of the Small, she did not yet feel protective or attached to her small child, and that scared her more than all the changes her body was going through.

VI.

When the Lord of Cavall returned to his fief, he found his wife in the kitchen, cutting her own hair. He froze in his tracks, fighting to keep his expression neutral. She looked frustrated, and the last thing he wanted to do was laugh at a pregnant woman when she was upset and had any sort of weapon in her hand.

"It keeps getting in the way," she explained weakly. She usually kept her hair short enough that it didn't even brush her shoulders, but since she had become pregnant it had grown faster than usual. It was two inches below her shoulders and – in Wyldon's opinion – rather becoming. "Every time I turn around it's tangling up or getting in the way when I practice."

"And you couldn't ask one of the maids to assist you?" he said, smiling wryly.

"I suppose that would've made more sense," she said, setting the scissors down. "I've missed you, Wyldon. I feel so out of sorts."

She crossed the room and wrapped her arms around him, and he held her closely. "I shouldn't have left," he murmured. She was scared, he realized. This incredible woman could face centaurs and killing devices, but she was afraid of something most women eagerly anticipated.

"Let me help you with this," he said, running his fingers through her uneven hair. He pulled away from her and took the scissors from the table. "Sit down."

She sat at the table and he began snipping her locks carefully so they were at her preferred length, just below her earlobes. "How did you keep yourself busy?" he asked.

"Most of my time was spent chasing Maks around the kennels," she replied. "You were right – he's a hellion like his papa."

"Jesslaw through and through," Wyldon said, chuckling. Keladry was the only one who knew exactly how much he liked Owen; he was happy to see some of his former squire's traits in his grandson.

"He wants to be a knight, he says, just like his grandda."

"Not like his father?"

"You're more impressive, I think," she answered. "And you never discipline him."

"I think the latter has much more to do with it," he said dryly. He snipped off the last few locks. "I think I'm done."

She ran her fingers through her short hair, sighing with relief. "Ah, this is so much better."

"It absolutely is," he murmured, leaning down to kiss her exposed neck.

"Not here," she replied, standing and turning to face him. "The last thing you need is someone walking in."

He raised his eyebrows. "Are you suggesting we go someplace private, my lady?"

She opened her mouth to respond – tartly, he presumed – but then stopped, a hand moving to her belly.

Something was wrong, he realized. All ardent notions flew from his head in a heartbeat. "What's the matter?"

She grinned at him, her eyes alight with excitement. "I think the baby just kicked."

She took his hand and placed it where hers had been, but he was unable to feel anything. "I felt it a moment ago," she said, her smile slipping.

"It probably can't be felt from the outside yet, dear," he replied, kissing her. "I will feel it when it's time."

VII.

"There's a package for the Lord and Lady of Cavall," Elric, one of Wyldon's most trusted servants, said during a rainy afternoon two weeks later. He brought a small box covered in stamp marks into the library.

Kel looked up from the letter she was writing. "It's for both of us? And is that from _Carthak_?"

Wyldon removed a letter that was resting atop the box and opened it. "I think this is what I've been waiting for," he said under his breath. He paused to put on his reading glasses. "You'll want to open the package," he told Kel.

She crossed the room, curiosity getting the better. When he set the note aside, he helped her open the small wooden crate. She moved the straw aside and pulled out a glass jar.

"Olives?" she asked incredulously. She had been craving them off and on for the last few weeks, but they were impossible to find this far north of the Inland Sea. "How in the world…?"

"I called in a favor," he said. "Before I left for the border you were craving olives, so I had to do whatever I could to get them."

She blinked at him. "You were in the north, though. It would take any courier four weeks just to get to Carthak."

"I ran into the Wildmage when I was at Steadfast, and when I posed my problem, she suggested a magespell. Numair Salmalin magically sent my message to a mage-friend in Carthak." He opened the jar and pulled out olive. "Do you want this?"

She ate the olive straight from his fingers, closing her eyes in sheer bliss. "You are the most wonderful husband a woman could dream of having," she gushed. She picked up the letter and skimmed it. "You called in a favor from the _Empress of Carthak_?"

He nodded.

"For me?" she squeaked.

"You might not have realized this Keladry, but I love you," he teased, holding out another olive to her.

"Well, yes, but…."

"There are no buts," he replied simply. "When Empress Kalasin was a young girl, she made a promise to me. She said if there was ever anything I could do for her, I simply had to ask."

Realization dawned on Kel. "Because you saved her siblings from the centaurs and hurrocks," she said.

He nodded. "Obviously I would never call on her for a huge favor – she was so young when she made that promise, and I did what needed to be done that day with no thought but to help those children. But I realized that she was the person who could most easily help us."

"You're an amazing man," she said, setting the letter aside and pressing against him. She looked up into his brown eyes, smiling. "I never really did tell you how much I admired you from the moment I first heard about that attack on the nursery."

"You would have done the same," he said, running his large hands from her shoulders down to her wrists. "And perhaps you wouldn't have come so close to losing your arm."

She shuddered. "Let's think happier thoughts," she suggested, kissing him.

"Such as?"

"How I'm to thank you for obtaining these olives," she whispered, unfastening the buttons of his shirt.

VIII.

"And how have you been feeling, my darling girl?" Ilane asked Kel, grateful that Piers and Wyldon had retreated to Wyldon's study after the evening meal. "Are you still feeling tired?"

Kel shook her head. "Rather the opposite. I'm full of more energy than I've felt in a long time. Especially considering that I haven't been sleeping well."

"I remember that phase all too well," Ilane said with a laugh. "When I was pregnant with you I was barely able to sit still once I hit my fourth month or so. Your poor father – every day I was changing my plans for the nursery and asking him to massage the cramps in my legs." She smiled fondly at the memories; she and Piers had been through it all so many times, but everything seemed exaggerated when she was carrying her youngest daughter. "How has Wyldon been?"

"Very patient," Kel said with a small smile. "It's strange to know that he knows more about babies than I do – but he does."

"I hope he isn't driving you crazy by telling you what's normal and that all your overwhelming feelings are to be expected."

"Do all men do that?" her daughter asked impatiently. "He isn't smug about it – and he _does _know so much more about pregnancy than I do – but it's infuriating sometimes! He's even told me that a lack of patience was rather common among pregnant women. I'd hate him for it if I didn't know he was right."

Ilane laughed again, putting one arm around Kel. "How wretched you must feel, if you're losing your patience so easily. You're one of the most patient people I've ever met, save your father. I'm guessing that your rows don't last very long, if they even work their way to a full blown argument?"

Kel shook her head. "I'm not one to yell, Mama. I find that I'm easily distracted when I'm beginning to get upset." She averted her eyes, a pink tinge creeping into her cheeks.

"Ah, you've reached that point of your pregnancy, have you?" Ilane asked knowingly. She had been quite amorous in her second trimester as well. "Your body is changing, and you're likely feeling more womanly than you ever have before – especially considering how much your breasts grow. And is Wyldon enjoying having you throw yourself at him every chance you get?"

"_Mama_," Kel admonished, her blush deepening.

"He should be grateful to have a wife like you, and take advantage of every loving moment. Because after that child is born, you won't have the energy or time to lavish attention on him."

"I think he is grateful," Kel said seriously. "This whole experience has breathed new life into him."

"Of course it has!" Ilane answered. "You've reminded him how young at heart he is. The last time he felt this way was when he was your age, so you're helping him relive his youth – with all the added wisdom his years have brought him. He's experiencing the best of both worlds."

Kel was quiet – even quieter than usual.

"What's on your mind, Keladry?"

She looked at Ilane with troubled eyes. "What if I'm not as good a parent as he is?"

"It doesn't matter if he remembers more from having his other children, or if you take to it more naturally than him. What matters is that you work together to raise your daughter or son."

IX.

"You look so surprised, Wyldon," Ilane said, her laugh low and musical. "Do you not remember this from Lady Vivenne's pregnancies?"

He rubbed his temples. "My youngest was born over twenty years ago, Ilane. I had blissfully forgotten the less pleasant aspects of expecting a child."

Keladry had slept fitfully. Again. It was more than tossing and turning, though. She had been having nightmares each night – and when Keladry had a nightmare she did not do so quietly. The first few nights involved small whimpers that worried him. But then she began talking in her sleep.

"Last night it was a griffin."

"A griffin?" Ilane repeated, exchanging a bewildered look with Piers.

"Yes," Wyldon sighed. "She dreamt that instead of giving birth to a human child, she had a baby griffin. And when she comes down for breakfast you will see that she clawed at her own fingers – reenacting the memories of caring for a baby griffin, I suppose."

"Only four more months of this," Piers said with a small smile. "Then it can be back to life as normal."

Wyldon breathed deeply. Life as normal? He was in his fifties and preparing to have a child. His life would never again be what men his age considered normal.

He wanted this child – very much – but it was impossible not to worry. What life would be offered to a son or daughter of two knights? But ultimately it was the simple fact that Wyldon felt old; it was impossible to think of his future child's life without recognizing that his life would likely end before his child reached the halfway point. And that reminded him how little time he had with Keladry.

He hadn't thought of these things when he'd proposed to her, or when she told him they were to have a baby. He was a man of planning and precision, but where Keladry was involved, he could never keep everything aligned and proper in his mind. She was so steadfast, always knew exactly what she wanted – it was strange to think that he could be the unsteady person in a relationship. His proposal had been impromptu; he should have thought about what it would be like to begin married life at his age, what it would be like for Keladry – what she might have to face from adversaries. Instead he looked at her dreamer's eyes and told her everything he felt about her. He was not the sort of man who shared his deepest feelings. Even with Vivenne, he had preferred to let his actions be his words. She had known he loved her – saying the words was not something that needed to be done. But with Keladry, he whispered them to her regularly. It was almost as if she drew them out of him; she was so impossible to read at times that he did whatever he could in hopes of seeing a reaction. He wondered if Vivenne had felt like this with him.

He realized that Piers of Mindelan was studying him, his hazel eyes – identical to Kel's – concerned.

"We're thinking of coming to Corus soon – staying at the palace until after the child is born. Keladry would like to have more midwives and healers available than just the local hedgewitch in Cavall," he said after taking a sip of tea.

Ilane clapped her hands in delight. "I was hoping you might," she confessed. "It will be far easier than to travel back here for the birthing."

X.

Kel hated traveling in a carriage. It reminded her of the Yamani Islands, when she had been a restless six-year-old, wearing a kimono for the first time and wishing she could run in the streets like the peasant children. Like then, she wanted to ride. But this time around at least she knew better than to beg; Neal has explicitly told her she couldn't ride after the first three months.

Not that she could easily ride astride now, anyway. Her abdomen had grown to the point that she could not wear breeches; she hadn't given up dresses entirely as a knight, luckily, and had been wearing them regularly. Once they were in Corus, though, she would have to contact Lalasa; while the dresses were more comfortable than her breeches, they were still tight – especially in the chest.

"You'd rather be riding, wouldn't you?" Margarry asked, squeezing Kel's hand. "You're like Owen. He traveled in the carriage once with me – I can't stand riding for such long periods, I'll confess. But poor Owen was stir crazy after the first half hour."

Kel smiled at the thought. "I _would_ rather be riding. I can't keep a clear look-out when I'm cooped up in here."

"And the boys probably aren't a comfort," the smaller woman added, smiling sympathetically. Maks had been rambunctious throughout the morning but had finally settled into light slumber. Pelin was happily flipping through a large book of the alphabet.

"Nonsense," Kel said with a laugh. She had enjoyed making up stories for Maks. "You and Owen seem to worry that I can't handle the boys or, worse yet, don't want to."

"I had a terrible temper when I was pregnant with Pelin," Margarry admitted, shame-faced. "Especially with Maks. I always had headaches and whenever Owen wasn't performing his duties as a knight he was rescuing Maks from my wrath. So I know that sometimes you'll be too stressed to want to deal with them."

"They're family," Kel insisted. "I've had children in my family all my life, so this is no different from being back at Mindelan."

Margarry grinned. "I love hearing you speak of us as your family. It tickles Owen to no end."

"I'm not surprised." Kel rolled her eyes, but smiled.

"Have you thought of names yet?"

"No," Kel confessed. "The Yamani always say that naming a child before it's born is like asking for Sakuyo's attention. He's the trickster god in the Yamani Islands."

"I can understand their logic," Margarry said with a shrug. "But on the other hand, what if you find yourself with no name on the birthing day?"

"I suppose we'll come to that when we do," Kel said, laughing. "I'm sure Wyldon has names in mind."

Margarry raised her eyebrows. "You'll want to be careful with that."

"Why?"

"He's the one who named the four of us. Eiralys and Sunarine always complained of having such flowery names." Margarry lowered her voice. "He takes names from old poetry. Cathrea was the heroine of an old ballad of star-crossed lovers. Eiralys was a tragic figure who committed suicide to save her family in a Marenite fable." Margarry pulled out a work basket with needles and thread, preparing to darn tiny children's socks. "He might have some good ones in mind, but let him know that he can't have the last say."

XI.

Yuki visited Kel after giving her an appropriate period for settling into the palace. She brought her four-year-old daughter with her: Ayako was attached to her godsmother and had insisted on bringing her flowers. When they came arrived, however, they found Kel in her sitting room with numerous weapons in front of her. She had her whetstone and oils and was sharpening a blade meticulously.

"How are you, Kel?" Yuki asked, pulling Ayako back before she could touch any of the blades.

Kel quickly gathered the weapons, making room on the sofa for both of them. "I'm well, Yuki. How have you two been?"

Yuki released her daughter to run to Kel's side. Ayako showered her with kisses and gave her the russet-colored blossoms.

"My favorite color! Thank you, Ayako," Kel said, kissing her on the forehead.

"Neal says you have been having backaches," Yuki said. "I remember feeling miserable once I was as far along as you are now. Poor Neal didn't know what to do with me."

Kel smiled. "It wouldn't be so bad, except that for the last month and a half I've been unable to stay still. At home I was preparing the nursery. Here I don't even have that luxury – I've been cleaning my weapons since I arrived." She looked down at the sheathed blade in her hand. "I finished mine, so I've been working on Wyldon's."

"It's a phase all expectant mothers go through," Yuki assured her with a laugh. "It's a matter of nesting – you want everything to be clean and orderly when the baby arrives."

Kel sighed. "I just want the baby to arrive soon. It's been kicking me all afternoon."

"It's healthy," Yuki said with a bright smile. "You will learn to live for that sensation. It reminds you that your burdens – the aches, the weight gain, being short of breath and temper – are all worth it."

"Well, I hope Wyldon can feel the kicking soon, so he can remember that it's worth it," Kel said dryly.

"Have you been terrible to him?" Yuki asked. She could not imagine such a thing – there never seemed to be disharmony in the Cavall household.

"Not terrible," Kel said, watching Ayako play with Jump before the hearth. "I've been impatient at times, and incredibly weepy at others. It's just… quite a bit to get used to."

"He's been through it before," Yuki said. "I'm sure he knows what to expect of a crazed pregnant woman."

Kel shook her head. "He knew what to expect of his last wife. But there are times that he looks at me with such confusion or amusement, and I can't tell what he's thinking."

"You are both like Yamanis," Yuki said, amused at how Kel's eyebrows shot upward questioningly. "You both try so hard to mask your expressions. It baffles Neal to no end. But I think it helps you understand one another."

"I wish I understood him now," Kel said with a sigh. "I worry endlessly about how he feels. He spends so much time caring for me, and I don't want to be a burden."

"You are unaccustomed to being the one who needs to be cared for," Yuki said. "You must let others look out for you, for once. Wyldon wants to take care of you. You of all people should know how men like to feel useful – especially when they have no sense of control over a situation."

"I'm sure you're right," Kel said finally. "Come, Ayako – I have some lovely new books that you might like to look through."

Yuki could not help but grin at the sight of Kel retrieving books for her daughter. She was clearly showing her pregnancy now, especially wearing a high-waisted gown fashionable for women who were expecting. She had never thought she would see her in this state, and she was eager to see what kind of mother her friend would be.

XII.

"Will you be coming to bed soon?" Keladry stood in the doorway of Wyldon's office, a thick dressing gown wrapped around her. She looked wan.

"In a moment," he said, removing his glasses. He had spent the evening reading over military reports. "There's a supply issue the army is attempting to sort out."

She crossed over to him, pulling a chair up next to his. She pulled one of the reports from his pile. "I can't sleep. Can I help?"

"Of course." He handed her three other pages of supply lists, watching her thoughtfully as she read over them. She had been tetchy over the last few months, unable to serve her regular duties. He had been working more in an advisory role in the past year, and he should've realized sooner that she would consider herself useful, in some capacity, if he had given her reports to review.

"Here's the problem," she said, showing him an invoice. "The merchants shorted the fifth company. Are there any others I could possibly help with?"

"Would you like to review battle plans?"

She frowned. "Why are you receiving battle plans? Does the king anticipate another war?"

"Not that I know of," he replied. "But the generals are always anticipating where the next invasion might come from – we try to design detailed responses to hypotheticals, so that if the worst should happen, they can move swiftly."

Her eyes lit up at the prospect, but she hesitated. "I'm just a knight, Wyldon – I've never really been in military command. I doubt the king would want my input."

"I want your input," he said, placing a stack of papers in her hands. "The king trusts my judgment when it comes to those I choose to work with."

Keladry beamed at him. "Have I told you lately that you're the best husband a woman could have?"

He couldn't help but smile back at her. She had been out of sorts since returning to Corus, although she was now in the company of her family and closest friends.

"Wyldon," she said, taking his hand. She opened her dressing gown and laid his palm against the thin cotton nightgown that covered her swollen abdomen. He felt a strong kick against his hand that was promptly followed by another.

"Is it kicking with both feet?" he asked, delighted. No matter how many times he felt that sensation it pleased him to no end.

She nodded. "I think our child likes the notion of battle plans."

"Of course she – or he – does," Wyldon said with a smile. "With parents like us, it was only a matter of time. I'm quite certain the child will be born with a sword in hand."

"Only six more weeks," Keladry whispered, hand over her belly. "I'll admit that I'm a little frightened."

"Of what, precisely?"

"Everything," she said. "I haven't felt such dread since my Ordeal – and I think it's the same kind of fear. I don't know what I'll be facing."

"Pain during labor," he answered. "Fatigue, once the child is here. And irritation for the next forty years of your life."

"Perhaps I shall run away and join a circus and leave you to raise our child without me," she teased back. "You are so much more experienced than I am."

He laughed. "You can't leave me Keladry. I need you to make me smile, if nothing else."

"How could I leave a man who needs me to make him smile?" She stood with a sigh. "Now will you come to bed?"

XIII.

"Your highness, you shouldn't be here," Kel admonished.

Shinkokami flushed prettily. "You are the only one here I have loved so long," she said, sitting next to her. "How could I not come to check on you, when you were so kind to me when I carried Lianokami?"

Kel smiled. "I'll admit that I'm grateful for your company, and won't question it further."

"Is it true, then, that Lord Wyldon has been called away?"

"Yes. There's a centaur problem not too far from here, and the Rider groups that are here are recovering from some skirmishes last week. So Wyldon was asked to ride out with them, along with a few other knights."

"You are due soon, aren't you?" Shinko knew that Kel was quite good at masking her feelings, like any child raised in the Yamani Islands, but she was surprised to see no worry at all on her face.

"In two weeks," Kel replied calmly. "Assuming he arrives on time."

"And will he make it back in time for the birthing?"

Kel smiled. "I trust he will."

Shinko sighed contentedly. She did not get to spend a lot of time with Keladry, but she was delighted to see her so happy in her marriage. "He doesn't want to miss it, I'm sure."

"He doesn't like having to leave me at all," Kel replied. "This is the first we've been apart since he was on the northern border. But he's been a knight of the realm longer than he's been my husband – he's not the type of person who would challenge an order given by the king or queen."

"Has he been taking good care of you?" Shinko had found that pregnancy had brought her even closer to her husband – something she could not have imagined before she had her daughter.

"Better than the most attentive healer could," Kel said, pouring a cup of green tear for her guest. "He elevates my swollen ankles, massages my aching feet. If there's anything I need he seems to know it before I do."

"My sister-in-law wrote to me about the olives," Shinko said, smiling over her teacup. "I'm pleased that your husband is so kind to you."

"As am I," Kel replied. "I do hope he returns in time, though. This child has been growing more and more active. He keeps me awake late into the night, hiccupping or kicking me."

"That's twice now you've referred to your child as a he. Are you sure it will be a boy?"

"One cannot be sure without word from the gods," Kel said with a small smile. "But I feel that I will have a son."

"What does Wyldon say?" Shinko asked.

"I have not told him my suspicions," she replied meekly. "We haven't even discussed whether he would prefer a son over a daughter."

"All men want sons," Shinko replied dismissively, waving her hand.

Kel shrugged. "Before we married, he once told me that he never cared that he did not have sons. His daughters mean the world to him, and he's always been pleased with them. But Fief Cavall will go back to the crown if he has no legal heir. A son would please him very much."

Shinko sighed. "If only we could change all of the inheritance laws the way my father-in-law adjusted succession." Her daughter was second in the line to the throne, and it was an adjustment made in the law while she was pregnant.

"There is no point lamenting that now, though," Kel replied. "It's in the hands of the gods."

XIV.

Kel had been ignoring her contractions all morning. They had started the night before, but were inconsistent. Just a week prior she had asked a palace servant to fetch a midwife, only to learn that it was false labor. But this felt different. By noon they had grown more persistent. She paced the length of her sitting room, wincing at the constant ache in her knees. Wyldon wasn't back from the field yet, and she didn't want to have this babe without him.

She waddled toward the door to answer a knock, simultaneously relieved and annoyed to see Neal.

"How is the expectant mother?" he asked, offering her a pastry.

"Expectant," Kel replied, tearing off a piece of the sweet bread. "I think I might be going into labor today."

Neal studied her carefully. "You've been having contractions all morning, haven't you?" He laughed at her bewildered expression. "I've known you how many years, Kel? You wouldn't tell me you thought you would give birth to your child today unless you had some clear sign. How long has it been going on?"

"Since I went to sleep last night," she answered.

"And has your water broken?"

Kel sighed exasperatedly. "I would have the common sense to send for a midwife if my water broke, Neal."

He arched one eyebrow, smirking. "Would you, Kel, or would you do your best to wait until your husband returned from the field?"

"I _would_ rather have him here," she said. Wyldon would hate to miss this moment, she knew. And she didn't like the notion of going through such an important moment for both of them when he wasn't even in the city.

"Babies don't always wait for fathers," Neal said wisely. "Ayako was born when I was stuck at the border."

"Will you stay with me until it's time?" Kel asked softly.

"I'd be affronted if you asked anyone else," Neal replied with a grin. "Are you sure you don't want me to help deliver the baby? I've done it plenty of times."

"I'd rather have a midwife, if you don't mind. If it gets so bad that I need a healer who specializes in military wounds, I'll beg for you."

"Shall we play a game of chess, then?" He moved to the small alcove at one end of the room, but stopped when he realized Kel had not followed. "What's wrong?"

"Another contraction," Kel said with a wince.

"How far apart are they?"

"Not close enough yet for concern," she said, joining him at the chess table. "I'll let you know once it's a concern."

They played for almost an hour – Kel concentrating on her moves while Neal regaled her with stories of Ayako's infancy. He paused mid-sentence when Kel was enduring a particularly difficult contraction. "They're getting closer in time, Kel."

She nodded. "I think it's time to get the midwife."

He jumped from his seat in order to fetch a palace servant, then came back to her side. "Do you want to walk a bit? Some women find that it eases the pain."

Kel nodded, letting him assist her. "How long?" she croaked. She bemoaned the fact that she'd had nine months to learn as much as she could about what to expect, but still seemed to have questions.

"Two to four more hours," Neal said softly. "Then it'll all be over."

"Thank Mithros," she said through clenched teeth. Another contraction held her in its grip. "I wish Wyldon were here," she lamented. "If Daine were in Corus, I'd ask her to take the form of a dragon and bring him here right now."

"There's no need," Wyldon said from the doorway. His clothes were covered in dust from the road and his dark eyes were locked on hers. He crossed the room in long strides to take her in his arms. "I trust the midwife is on her way?"

XIV.

"You're welcome to come in now, my lord," the midwife's apprentice said as she opened the door, wiping her bloody hands on a towel.

He pushed his way past Queenscove and into the room where Keladry lay exhausted against the pillows, a small bundle held against her chest. Her mother sat with her, speaking in her low, musical voice.

"Would you like to meet your healthy baby son?" Kel asked, beaming up at him.

"A son?" he asked, a small laugh escaping his mouth. He had not dared to hope. But this tiny child Keladry was placing in his arms – he was his heir. A boy to inherit the fief. A boy who would become the next lord of Cavall. He blinked up at Wyldon with long-lashed eyes. They were the same hazel as Keladry's eyes, and Wyldon couldn't help but love him all the more for it. He'd not thought about how this precious creature would be like Keladry.

"You're an amazing woman." He set next to her on the bed, kissing her forehead and placing the child back in her arms.

"It was an easy birth, my lord," the midwife said, gathering messy towels with Ilane's help. "Lady Keladry and her son are both quite healthy and happy. I don't often get to see mothers who are so very healthy or strong. The lady didn't even scream." They left the room, along with her apprentice.

"I did moan and groan quite a bit," Keladry said with a wry grin, once the door was shut. "I'm not that amazing."

"You gave us a son," Wyldon said, awe in his voice. "I think you're the most incredible woman I know." It was the miracle of the Goddess, he knew, that a woman's body could create such a complex creature from almost nothing. And even though it was a marvel that happened every day, it still humbled him. To imagine that his wife had nurtured this tiny little creature and protected him within her body – he couldn't help but find her amazing.

"This little boy needs a name, though," she said, gazing down at their infant. "Have you any in mind?"

Wyldon shook his head. He had several girls' names picked out – he loved girls' names, and had fully expected to have a fifth daughter. "None at all," he confessed.

"Margarry said you would have chosen a ludicrous name from some ancient ballad or fable."

He laughed; his youngest had always chastised him for his weakness. "There are some decent names for boys in the old ballads."

"Ewain?" Kel suggested. "There's the poem that begins: 'When Ewain slew the dragon it was no more to him than sleep.'"

"He was one of my favorites," Wyldon admitted. Ewain was one of the bravest knights in history. And this child – Keladry's son – was certainly going to be a courageous knight.

"Mine too," she replied, pulling him toward her for a kiss.

A knock interrupted them, and Queenscove peeked his head around the door. "Can oldest and closest friends come see the baby?" he asked, grinning.

"Come in, Neal," Kel said, beckoning for him to come to her side. "This is our son Ewain."

"Congratulations is owed to you both," he said. "May I hold him?"

Keladry handed him over. "Please let Yuki and Shinko know," she asked him. "We'll tell Owen, of course."

"Of course. He's a heavy little fellow. Eight pounds, maybe? Ayako was only six and a half pounds." The child gurgled happily, tiny fists waving wildly. "And soon you will have a sword in those chubby hands, won't you?" Queenscove cooed at the baby as he swayed from side to side.

"You certainly can't dislike a fellow who adores your son so much," Keladry murmured to Wyldon, her voice low and eyes twinkling mischievously.

"Oh, look, Kel! He has my eyebrows!"

Wyldon smiled wryly down at his wife. "No, certainly I could not." He plucked the child from Queenscove's arms. "Go to your wife, Nealan. Tell her the happy news, and leave Keladry to her rest."

The younger man kissed Keladry's cheek and made his way out, leaving Wyldon alone with his wife and son.

"I was so afraid, during the first few months of my pregnancy, because I didn't feel any sort of affection or protectiveness for this child," she confessed, her voice low. "But he's so beautiful I can't imagine loving anything as much as him. He's perfect."

"He is," Wyldon agreed, swelling with pride. "But you will need to stop staring at him, eventually, so you can get some sleep."

"Thank you," she murmured, her eyes already drifting shut. "For being so kind and patient with me over the last few months."

"Nonsense," he whispered, kissing her forehead. "I would go through it again in a heartbeat." And maybe they would, he thought, studying his son.

The End


End file.
